Mray Media

01/11/2025

Kitambo nilikuwa nasema watu waliofeli ndo hufanya kazi ya watchman...🤣🤣🤣

26/10/2025

alafu yule mwalimu ulikuwa umpige after paper ya mwisho ilkuwaje ama... tuachane na hiyo stori 🤣🤣🤣

08/10/2025

🔥🔥MILIMA YA TAITA, UZURI WA ASILI 🌿

Kule milimani, upepo unasema,
Maneno matamu k**a ndoto za lema,
Jua likichomoza, anga inang’aa,
Taita Hills – mrembo wa dunia nzima, ah baa! 🌄

Miti inaimba na ndege wanacheza,
Kelele za msitu – ni muziki wa asili heza,
Hewa ni safi, baridi ni laini,
Unapumua amani, roho inatulia ndani. 🍃

Kwenye njia za udongo, miguu inacheka,
Watoto wa kijiji wanakimbia, wanadeka,
Nyasi zinaning’inia, zikipepea kwa style,
Ni k**a dunia imevaa smile. 🌺

Taita, mama wa kijani,
Unalea mito, mawingu, na nani?
Wanyama wanapita kimyakimya,
K**a wana heshimu siri zako za mbinguni mia. 🦋

Jua likizama, anga inawaka moto,
Taa za kijiji zinachomoka, ni toto,
Na msitu unavuta pumzi ndefu,
Ukisema, “Amani bado ipo, usiwe na woga mrefu.” 🌙

Taita Hills, wewe ni baraka,
Kila kona yako ni picha ya mbaka,
Na sisi watoto wako, tukikuchora kwa maneno,
Tunalia kwa furaha — kwa moyo siyo kwa macho. 💚

30/08/2025

THE SMOKY HUT
💢 Episode 5: The Dare 💢

At the riverbank, children gathered, their laughter sharp as they teased Wakesho. Bold, mischievous Mkang’ombe sneered at her.

“You claim you saw a hut with smoke?” he taunted. “Then prove it! Or admit you’re only scared of shadows.”

The other children laughed, pointing, their mockery burning in her chest. Wakesho clenched her fists, shame twisting into defiance.

“I will go,” she declared. “I will enter the hut myself.”

That evening, as the sun bled into the ridges, Wakesho slipped quietly into the forest. Every step deeper made her heart pound louder. Crickets chirped. Leaves whispered. And then—there it was.

The smoky hut stood waiting. Its roof sagged, yet smoke curled upward though no fire glowed inside. With trembling hands, she pushed the door open. The air inside was heavy, thick with the smell of ash and old sorrow.

Then, without warning, the door slammed shut behind her. The darkness swallowed her whole.

Inside, the smoke thickened until shapes began to move within it. Shadows stepped forward, faces burned and hollow. They were men, women, children — villagers of old. Their voices came in whispers, dry and echoing.

“Do not fear us. We were fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. We perished in fire… the fire of lies.”

Another figure emerged. Wakesho’s breath caught. Mkamburi herself stood before her, tall, her ragged form glowing faintly in the gloom.

“Child,” she said, voice steady and haunting, “your grandmother’s silence bound us. The curse cannot lift until the truth is spoken. Until our names are remembered.”

Tears blurred Wakesho’s vision. Her voice shook as she whispered, “But… how can I free you?”

The ghosts answered as one, their voices rising from the smoke: “Speak. Speak for the dead.”

29/08/2025

🌌 Episode 4: Shadows in the Night 🌌

That night, Wakesho’s dreams were not her own. She found herself standing in the smoky hut, its walls trembling with ash. The air pressed heavy against her lungs.

From the swirling smoke emerged faces — men, women, children. Their skin was blackened, their eyes hollow, yet full of pain. They reached out, moaning in one terrible voice: “Set us free…”

And then she saw her — Mkamburi. Her body cloaked in tatters, her skin cracked like burnt earth, her gaze deep with sorrow. She stretched her arms toward Wakesho.

“Tell them the truth,” she whispered, her voice like a wind through dry leaves.

Wakesho awoke with a scream, drenched in sweat. Her hands shook violently, and when she looked at her palms, her breath caught. They were blackened — smeared with soot. Real. Tangible.

She had carried the smoke back with her.

At sunrise, Wakesho could hold it in no longer. “Shosho,” she pleaded, “who is Mkamburi? Why does she come to me?”

For a long while, Wughanga was silent, folding her mat with trembling hands. Then her voice, heavy with sorrow, spilled out.

“Mkamburi was my friend,” she said softly. “We grew up together. She healed the sick, brought children into this world, and fed the hungry. But when famine came, fear consumed the people. They turned against her. They said she feasted on their children’s souls. They dragged her into her hut… and burned her alive.”

Her voice broke, tears streaming down her cheeks. “And I… I stood among them. I did nothing. I betrayed her with silence.”

Wakesho’s throat tightened. Now she understood why Shosho trembled at the mention of the hut. It was not just fear — it was guilt. The ghosts of Mkamburi and her people would not rest, and their burden had fallen to her.

💔🔥

28/08/2025

THE SMOKY HUT
🔥 Episode 3: The Forbidden Story 🔥

Two nights later, the village gathered at Walowe’s compound for the harvest moon. As was tradition, families huddled close around a roaring fire, children nibbling roasted maize while the elders prepared to tell the ancient tales. Shadows flickered across their faces, and the night felt thick with memory.

Elder Wandoe, tall and strong-voiced, cleared his throat and began.

“Long ago, there was a woman named Mkamburi,” he said. “She lived at the edge of this forest. She healed the sick, birthed children, and knew the secrets of herbs. But when famine struck, and children began to die, fear overtook the people…”

The villagers leaned in. The fire hissed, and the children clutched at each other.

“They said Mkamburi was the cause. They dragged her into her own hut. And—”

“Enough!”

The voice cracked like thunder. All eyes turned. Shosho Wughanga had risen, her staff slamming into the ground. Her face was fierce, her eyes burning.

“That story is forbidden!” she barked. “Do not poison young ears with it. Do you hear me? It must never be spoken!”

The fire seemed to shrink under her words. Elder Wandoe swallowed hard, silenced. A heavy unease fell over the crowd. Mothers exchanged glances. Children’s eyes grew wide with fright.

And from that night, whispers followed Shosho Wughanga wherever she went. Why hide the tale of Mkamburi, unless she carried its secret?

🌕🔥

27/08/2025

THE SMOKY HUT

🌲✨ Episode 2: Whispers in the Trees ✨🌲

The nights in Mghambonyi no longer felt the same. The moon lingered over the ridges like a heavy eye, watching in silence. Dogs barked at unseen figures, and the mournful call of an owl echoed from the forest, chilling the villagers who believed its cry carried omens of doom.

Inside their small hut, Wakesho sat curled by the hearth, her heart restless. Shosho Wughanga stirred cassava leaves slowly, her wrinkled face stern and unreadable. Wakesho’s voice broke the silence.

“Shosho,” she whispered, “I swear it was real. The hut in the forest. And it spoke my name.”

The wooden spoon froze midair. Shosho’s back stiffened, her voice suddenly sharp. “Never speak of that place again. To utter it is to summon what should remain buried.”

“But Shosho—”

“No more!” The old woman’s voice cracked like a whip, but behind it flickered something Wakesho had never seen in her before — guilt, maybe, or a fear too old to name.

Later that night, as the air grew still, Wakesho stepped out to fetch water. The gourd felt heavy in her hands, though the night seemed strangely empty. Then it came — a voice, drifting from the forest, low and deliberate.

“Wakesho…”

Her skin turned to ice. The gourd slipped and shattered, water soaking the dust. Again, the voice came, closer, wrapping itself around her very bones.

“Waaakeshooo…”

She stumbled back into the hut, her chest pounding. Shosho Wughanga was awake, eyes wide, fixed on her — as though she, too, had heard the terrible whisper.

Neither spoke. But the silence between them was louder than words.

👻🌑

26/08/2025

THE SMOKY HUT

🌲✨ Episode 1: Wakesho in the Forest ✨🌲

In the quiet village of Mghambonyi, life moved gently under the slopes of Mount Kasigau. Fourteen-year-old Wakesho, full of curiosity, set off to collect firewood after her grandmother Shosho Wughanga’s stern warning: “Do not wander too far. The forest hides things not meant for young eyes.”

But Wakesho’s adventurous spirit carried her deeper than ever before. Chasing a red bird, she strayed from the path and stumbled upon something no villager had spoken of—a lonely, smoky hut hidden between giant baobab trees. Its roof sagged with age, yet smoke curled from the chimney as if someone lived there.

Just as she touched the wooden frame, a voice whispered her name: “Waaakeshooo…” The sound, neither man nor woman, froze her blood. Terrified, she ran home empty-handed.

When she tried to tell her grandmother, Shosho’s face turned pale with fear. “Never speak of that place,” she whispered. That night, as the moonlit village slept, Wakesho lay awake, the voice still echoing in her ears—knowing this was only the beginning of something far darker.

Yet deep in her heart, curiosity burned stronger than fear. Who lived in that hut? Why did it call her name? And why had her grandmother, who knew so many secrets of the land, hidden this one from her?

As the crickets sang outside and the wind whispered through the trees, Wakesho promised herself one thing: she would return to the forest. For some mysteries, once opened, can never be left behind..to be continued.
Follow Mray Media to keep updated on every new episode.

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28/07/2025

Kuna siku nilikula miraa nikaanza kuona Ile ng'ombe yetu k**a dinosaur.🤣🤣🤣endelea kunifolow tuingie porini🤣

16/07/2025

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMSGn1k4W/
🔥🔥Fika hapo TikTok 💯💯💯

Check out Mo_Ses_254’s video.